The Brat and the Brainiac by Angela Sargenti Read Free Book Online

admits, “but you’re still a smart-ass.”
    She giggles and clinks glasses with me. I don’t quite get the joke, but it’s still funny, so I laugh along with her.
    “No, so really,” she says. “Let’s eat before it gets cold.”
    “Mmm,” I tell Ignatius. “This is good.”
    “It would, perhaps, have been better with Chianti, but no one’s complaining, so drink up. Miranda has permission to raid her uncle’s wine stash all she wants tonight.”
    “Yeah,” she tells me, elbowing me gently. “You’d better feel lucky. He doesn’t do that for just anybody.”
    “Well, tell him I said thanks.”
    She stops and looks at me—really looks at me—for the first time tonight. She grins and her breath catches before she lets out a sigh.
    “Wow. Is that for me?” I ask.
    And she says, “Yes.”
    I glance past her and Kevin’s smiling. Ignatius looks satisfied, and he drains his wine glass.
    “Speaking of honey,” he says to Kevin, “let me finish up here and we’ll cut out.”
    We three sit there drinking wine as Ignatius cleans the kitchen.
    “So, what do you do, Kevin?” I ask him.
    “I work at a dry cleaners. Low pay, boring work. You know. Living the dream.”
    “Maybe you should’ve listened to your mother and stayed in school,” Ignatius tells him.
    “Yeah. I can always go back.”
    “Well,” he tells Kevin, hanging up his dishtowel, “I’m done here, if you’re ready.”
    “I am.”
    “Good.”
    Ignatius turns to us, then, and gives Miranda a severe glance.
    “You behave yourself, and remember what your uncle said.”
    “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for dinner, by the way.”
    “No problem. Jason, it was nice to meet you. I hope we see you around here more often.”
    “Oh, sure. I hope so, too.”
    With that, they go out the back door together and leave us sitting there alone. Without asking me, Miranda refills my wine glass.
    “I’m going to have to call a cab when it’s time to go home.”
    “Why don’t you just crash in the guest room?”
    “I get the feeling your uncle wouldn’t like that. Besides, I don’t have anything with me.”
    She doesn’t say anything else about it. Instead, she just sweeps up her glass and throws me a come-hither glance.
    “Come on,” she says. “The media room’s back here.”
    I follow her in and we sit down on the couch together. As soon as we’re settled in, she turns to me with a smile.
    “I read an article about the Trackman system. I had no idea.”
    “It does a lot more than most people think.”
    “What’d you do, take Physics in college?”
    “As a matter of fact, yes. And Computer Science, with a minor in Math.”
    “Two majors? Oh, my God, you’re such a brainiac.”
    “Well, thank you. I think.”
    I go to brush a loose strand of hair back from her face when she suddenly flinche s away.
    “What’s wrong?” I ask.
    Instead of answering, she tries to turn away, but I grab her chin and lift it. I push her hair back and see a long, thin scar running just under her hairline and ending right in front of her ear.
    “What happened here?”
    She looks unhappy and shrugs, a sullen expression on her face. “My parents were killed in a car wreck.”
    “Yeah?”
    “I was in the back seat. There’s another one, a worse one, on my shoulder, but I can hide it. Most of the time.”
    Her eyes well up with tears, and as ashamed as she looks about it, I imagine a real nightmare of a scar, a gnarled red mess. I wonder if this is why Tommy wants to fob her off on me, and yet makes me keep my hands off her.
    “Let’s see,” I tell her, ready for the worst. She shakes her head and tries to move away, but I won’t let her. “Come on.”
    “No. It’s hideous,” she tells me.
    “It can’t be that bad.”
    “It’s bad enough.”
    “Where’s it at?”
    “On my shoulder.”
    “Let me see it, Miranda. I mean, I’m going to see it eventually, if we keep going out.”
    “Fine. Whatever. Don’t say I didn’t warn you when it makes you